The Pensive
by midnight glade
Summary: Ninety years after Lord Voldemorts death, a Hogwarts student decides to venture into the mystery that is the wizarding war by using the menories of those long dead. Spellbound by the story he finds, will he show the world what they have forgot?
1. Introduction

The Pensive

Hello people. This is my second attempt at Harry Potter fan fiction. My first was…decent. Still, this was supposed to be a multi chaptered story and I may come back to it but I just want to see what people think. Anyway, I have another story on the go. I do have the plot for this all planned out. Chapter by chapter lol. I hope you enjoy my attempt at fan fiction. Please read and review.

Chapter 1- Introduction

---

_The war was over. Voldemort was dead._

_It had been this way for the better part of a nine decades. Ninety years of peace Oh, the toll had been high. Massively high in fact. But what did that mean to anyone? It had happened and ended decades before most Wizards nowadays had been born. Those who survived it were old and though they would tell tales of the hardship and suffering, no one could really comprehend. Grandchildren would listen to the tales before going out to play, forgetting in their young bliss. Yes. It was all to easy to forget. Who would really want to remember? Those were dark times and the horror and terror of the war had been left behind all to eagerly. Not that there was anything wrong with that. For, what is the problem with moving on? Growing up? Walking forwards? Is there any fault in walking along the path set out in front of you? No. There is not._

Kyle stared down at the parchment on his desk. He quill poised over the clean paper.

He was writing his end of year History of Magic essay. It was something he'd been working on in class all year. A new addition to the school curriculum, it was compulsory for each student to choose a point in history that most interested them. A point in time where something important happened. A pivotal moment in time. Obviously, he wasn't the only one that had chosen the last war, many others had. Who wouldn't? With the exploits of Harry Potter and his friends. The lure of their adventures. The ones who had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort. It was the stuff of fairytales. Sighing, he wondered what else to write. He was only on the introduction! It needed to be handed in tomorrow.

Others had been asking him for months why he hadn't started writing it and, the truth was, that he wasn't quite sure. He supposed it would be because he wanted to make it as accurate as possible.

His friends had been wondering at the amount of effort he had been putting into this essay. Its just homework, they told him, when they found him researching late into the night at the library. He knew they thought he only enjoyed the 'glory' of the war, and he was ashamed to admit that that had been his original reason for choosing the subject. Stupidly, he hadn't understood the extent of the violence, the loss.

Until he found something that could change everything. Forever.

He put his quill back to the page.

_I chose the time of Harry Potter as my project. More specifically, the time of the war with Voldemort. Before I started this, I thought it was all glory and was easily won, always in favour of the light. That no extreme crimes against humanity were committed and that we won easily. No corruption, no treachery… I was wrong. _

Pausing again, he felt a fleeting feeling of worry. Would he do the story, no not story…reality, he was about to tell justice? Should he of done more research?

No.

He had done all the research. He knew the story better than, in his understanding, anyone alive. As for doing it justice. There was no other choice. His retelling had to do something.

_The end of the war saw the deaths of many of the prominent figures. Number one, for example, was Mr Harry Potter himself, though the exact events of his death were never known. Secondly, were his two best friends Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Ronald Weasley. Others included his Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. It is unknown whether these deaths are connected, though they both involved Voldemort. Voldemort was killed, obviously. In the later parts of this essay, I will discuss the deaths in further detail and-_

He stopped, even to his ears, it sounded too impersonal. Just words on a page. Nothing like the raw and very painful emotions and memories he had uncovered in his research. He knew his Professor wouldn't approve but he knew what he had to do. He had to write the story as it was, and the words couldn't be plain. They would convey the emotions he knew were felt, and so his hand shaking slightly before he managed to steady it, Kyle continued, crossing out the previous sentence and creating a new paragraph.

_This is not my story. The things listed here are the actions and experiences of another. One with real feelings and emotions. They lived in the middle of the war I am trying to describe. I may be safe, in my secure life, but had it not been for the bravery of the wizards and witches that saved this world, I would be living a very different life. They are the hero's, the true hero's, of this age. They died so that others can live. Its time we commemorate that bravery. For too long we have let ourselves forget. _

This is not simply a essay to me anymore.

Its so much more.

_When I started this, I had no idea of true sacrifice or of the oppression suffered throughout the war we long to, and have started to, forget. There is no book to log the events, no event for us to remember. Many died, so that we could live, we owe it to them to remember._

I intend to remember. I intend to write something that will shake the wizarding world.

_You may dispute my knowledge, but you can't deny the source. Memories. I have collected as many memories as possible about the most memorable events of the war. Also, I managed to stumble upon a wealth of memories all on my own. It seems that while some things are hard to remember, these things should be impossible to forget._

_From what I have discovered, this account should be a accurate and non bias documentation of what happened in the war._

_After all, the information came straight from Harry Potter himself._

Kyle paused, again, suddenly unsure of himself. However, he soon started to urge himself on. It was getting late and he needed to finish. He wanted to finish. It was his last month at school, maybe he'd finally make a lasting impression on his teachers. Never mind that, he admonished, this was far more important than praise from teachers. Still, he couldn't help, the small well of pride inside him that he felt when he thought about what he was doing.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he continued to write rapidly but carefully.

A pensive was sitting rather inconspicuously on the other side of Kyle's desk. It was very ordinary. Large but plain. The silvery liquid swirling in its depths contrasting to its dullness; alive and free.

The only indication to its origin was two words roughly chiselled into the stone. Very worn, it was only just readable.

A name.

_Harry Potter_

_----_

_Thanks for reading._


	2. Harry

Chapter 2- Harry

----

_Source one- The Fall of Power By William David's. Page 88._

'_The fight between Mr Potter and Lord Voldemort has always caused argument among most historians. Simply put, even to this day, we don't know exactly what happened. Everyone in the Great Hall (the place it happened) was killed - including Harry Potter himself. However, reports state that those in the grounds of Hogwarts saw a large explosion destroy the hall. Based on various other evidence such as reports of many unauthorised magical transportations, it is my belief that there is a unknown wizard involved in this conflict. I believe that there was some sort of spell such as bombarda used to end Voldemort's life and all those around him. It is entirely unreasonable to believe that a single seventeen year old boy could of ended the life of one of the greatest wizards since Merlin. In the next chapter I will discuss the possible candidates for this wizard. Including the 'deceased' Albus Dumbledore.'_

_This was one of the only sources that I could find on the War. The five others will be scattered throughout this piece. As I said before, there is no real book, no documentation, on the war and what happened. All there is are half completed records that most of the time prove useless. The book that I was given when I started this research was adequate at best. _

_This source talks about the event that actually killed Voldemort. The famous explosion in which he was killed. As you can see, William doubts whether it was actually Harry and suspects other wizards were involved. Mainly Dumbledore. I disagree. Why would Dumbledore willingly kill Harry and all those other students and adults that were present in the hall? Everything I have ever read tells me that Dumbledore cared about his students and loved them as his own children. I don't believe he would sacrifice his students. No matter how desperate he was. It is for definite. Harry killed Voldemort._

_I have the memory to prove it._

_----_

The Great Hall was ruined. The doors were locked and bolted; sealed with spells Harry probably didn't even know existed. The walls were dented in various places where spells had missed their intended targets and the windows had small spidery cracks marring the surface. Glass looking like it could shatter at any moment. Any moment at all. Four tables lay scattered around the room. In pieces, they had been ripped apart but the battle that had just been fought. Legs broken apart, it was impossible to determine which table had been for which house. Seems like, somehow, Hogwarts had united after all.

Harry knelt down, closing the eyes of a dead sixth year Hufflepuff who had just been defending him. A crunch behind him instantly alerted him to the other person in the Hall. The only other who had survived.

"Voldemort." Harry stood, breathing heavily as he glared at him enemy.

The Dark Lord inclined his head in answer, a small smile on his lips but didn't speak.

"So, this is where it ends?" Harry stated grimly. The question not really a question. More of a tired musing. A silent promise. A hard, cold fact.

"Yes, Harry Potter," Voldemort's soft, serpentine voice whispered, almost soothingly, in reply. As if trying to reassure him. But Harry knew what it was. A sick and twisted façade. A façade that didn't even seem real. His crimson eyes gave him away, cold and mocking; contrasting with his softer tone. " this is where it ends."

Harry sighed, ignoring the cut along his arm, the broken ribs that hurt every time he shifted position, and moved into a battle stance. He was ready. This was the moment he had been waiting all his life for. The moment he could finally be free, whether it was Voldemort who died or him. Not that he was suicidal or anything. Oh no. He was going to fight to the end. Looking into Voldemort's cruel, guarded eyes, Harry chose his next words with caution. "I expected more from you Riddle. Some gloating, perhaps? Why so quick to kill?"

"Now, Harry, you think to much of yourself. Why should I gloat to you, boy, when I have already won?" There was power in Voldemort's stance. The type of terrifying strength that has grown men fleeing in fear. Harry didn't blame them. He feared Voldemort too. The unnatural grace he expressed when he moved and the calculating stare in his eyes, crimson, like fresh blood. It was smart to be afraid. Everything about Voldemort screamed dangerous and Harry knew that his fighting style was, literally, unmatched. It was logical to he afraid. Realistic. Part of the 'rules'.

But since when had Harry ever followed any rules?

True he was scared but he wasn't going to let that bother him. He embraced his fear, it made him concentrate. Just because your afraid doesn't mean your weak. Just because your afraid doesn't mean you can't do what you have to do. What you _need_ to do.

And, so, he faced Voldemort just like his father had. Straight backed and proud.

"You have not already won. You said that you'd win when the last man in this hall had fallen." Harry spat. Voldemort stared at him, unimpressed. Then he smiled. A predatory grin. Voldemort's eyes gained a thoughtful calculating air. As if staged, they began to circle each other both looking for weakness'. Things they could use to destroy the other.

"But I'm still standing." His emerald eyes glinted with a challenging glare. Voldemort tilted his head to the side as if he was finally facing a challenge. The bloodlust in his eyes showing that he was ready to kill.

"You want this world? Huh? You want control? Fine, you can have it." Harry snarled.

"You'll just have to go through me first."

_---_

_You may wonder why I'm starting at the end. It is easier for me to retrace Harry's steps than to lead up to the end. Too start at the last memory rather than the first. Anyway, the memories I found were not in a specific order. They were scattered, almost disjointed. Suffering mixed into happiness. Faith with despair…but that's what happened in the war, wasn't it? The harsh times had points where people could forget and rise above their grief. That is one of the things I admire about the people fighting in the war. They never gave up. Voldemort could take their friends away from them, there family, their homes, their futures…their lives, but he could not take away their memories. Not when they were stored in a Pensive. Not when they could create new ones._

_After all, as Dumbledore once said, happiness can be found in even the darkest of places, if only one remembers to turn on the light. _

_The next chapter of this essay will discuss his time with the order and then I will gradually progress through the war until I get back to where I started. _

_Still, as I analysed this scene as part of my work, I became interested in the battle before the confrontation between Voldemort and Harry. Everyone who had entered the hall had died and I just thought about why Harry had managed to live. The historian of source one doesn't even mention the subject of Harry capabilities. If he survived this fight that he had to of been quite powerful. Or maybe Voldemort had ordered Harry left alive? If so, why had he not killed him earlier? There were so many unanswered questions in my mind. Questions I knew had to be answered. Still, I followed the memories in the correct order instead of intentionally digging for the answer. _

_After deciding to be patient to find the answer of this question, I found another more pressing one that I knew needed to be answered. There was no survivors from the great Hall massacre so… _

_If Harry Potter died then…how did those memories get into his Pensive?_

_If not him, then who put them there?_

_And how did they get his memories?_

_---_

Sorry its so short. Its not supposed to be very long. Future chapters will be but this one is a shorter, more poignant, chapter. Or…its supposed to be. I hope you liked it. Thank you to all the reviewers that persuaded me to continue this. I was going to…but not now. Still, updates will probably not be very often but I'm suffering from writers block with my other story so I'm writing a bit of this one.

Thank you for reading,

Midnight Glade


End file.
